“Coldcross,” he says succinctly.
“Which is where, exactly?”
“Trade-post town. Straddles the border between Llyr, the Frostlands, and the Cimmerians. The royal family keeps a residence here.”
He leads me up three stone steps toward a heavy wooden door. It opens before we’ve made it within knocking distance. A male servant hovers on the threshold, bowing slightly when he sees Penn.
“Crown Prince Pendefyre. Welcome, welcome. We’ve made all the arrangements requested in the raven you sent this morning.”
“Thank you, Gael.”
Releasing my hand, Penn pushes firmly at the small of my back so I have no choice but to step through the doorway into the house.
“See that she’s settled in. I need to sort out my horse and my men.”
“Certainly, sir. But, if you’d like, the stable hands are more than capable—”
Penn is already walking away.
“Never mind,” Gael says brightly, shutting the door. “Come now, Miss…” He trails off, a question in his voice.
Soren’s warning about names and their power is fresh in my mind. I offer him an apologetic smile. “The men call me Ace.”
He blinks. “Very well, Miss…Ace.”
“Just Ace will do.”
“Erm…right.” His composure is, thankfully, far less shakable than mine. “If you’ll just head up those stairs, Miss Ace…”
Two minutes later, I am alone in a rather spacious bedroom on the upper floor of the town house. The shutters are latched and the curtains pulled, preventing any glimpse at the world outside. A fire burns low in the grate, warming the room.
I take off the cloak of blue velvet and hang it on a hook by thewardrobe. Resisting the urge to peek inside dresser drawers and riffle through the writing desk, I make use of the attached bathing suite tucked behind a screen in the corner. Then I sit in the brocade armchair near the fire and wait.
I do not have to wait very long.
Penn crashes through the door with such force, it rattles on its hinges. The saddlebags he’s holding hit the floor with a dull thud as he strides across the chamber. His eyes rake me head to toe, a cutting sweep that slices deeper as he takes in the dress I’m wearing.
“Gods,” he hisses. “You’re in his bloody colors.”
“I didn’t have much say in it. It’s not like I chose—”
The savage look he shoots at me stills my tongue. “What a fool I was for thinking you needed rescue. It appears you were enjoying Soren’s company more than you ever have mine.”
“I was not.”
“No?” He scoffs. “It’s amazing, really, how chummy you got with him after—what was it? Two days? Yet you’ve been in my company for nearly a fortnight and I had to hear your name from his mouth.”
“Penn…”
When I say his name, the fire in the grate leaps higher, as though someone has thrown a cup of spirits on it. My eyes widen.
He swallows harshly, struggling to get himself in check. “I can’t stand to look at you when you’re branded like a piece of his property.”
My spine stiffens and I rise slowly from my seat. “Are you…angryat me?”
His chuckle holds no humor. None at all. “Angry? Am Iangry?Angrymay be too tame a word for what I’m feeling.”
“Why?